How I was rescued.



It was an ordinary day; in fact it was raining inside and outside my beleaguered heart.

I don’t know what it was, the glowing eyes, the dazzling smile? Perhaps it had more to do with the idiocy of his giving out tracts in the centre of the crushing migration of London rush hour, but I stopped to exchange a few words.

He said he believed in Jesus; that also seemed a total contradiction, nothing staid, holy or religious about this guy, no suit, no short haircut, rather he seemed to be pulsating with life. We chatted and argued our way down the stairs wedged between unrelenting computers, through the ticket barrier (he also had a pass I noticed) and down the escalator. I was good at arguing, a cynic, agnostic, proud of my London veneer that set me above the tourists and visitors – I grew up here.

I couldn’t score over him though, he had something those other “faith peddlers” didn’t have, his faith went all the way down. My classic undefeatable questions (the kind that generally tore faith apart) were answered with childlike wisdom and sincerity – no cop outs here.

I turned to go several times, unwilling to concede an inch, but he wouldn’t give up, taking my hand upon occasion to detain me. He told me later he was arguing with God the whole time, he wanted to give up but God insisted he fight for me, that for all my “façade” I was a “sister” and in dire need of rescue (I was!). We stood upon the crowded platform, residents of a secret world all our own, as he battled against the forces of darkness that had pursued and overwhelmed me.

Then he looked right into my heart, past the masks and facades that I was so good at, and said…

“All your life you’ve been looking for perfect love and you’ve never found it – because it’s Jesus.” I was in shock, my most carefully hidden secret (of which I’d given no hint) how could he know? Not even my closest friends knew that. I had my act together. Later he said the words just pushed themselves out of his mouth and he himself was taken aback by them.

Now he really had my attention but the word “Jesus” put me off. I’d always detested Christianity with its smug hypocrisy, even as a child I’d seen through the sham of organised religion, I wanted something real, tangible, testable. It must be the guy I thought, I was drawn to him like a bird with a snake, hypnotized by those glowing eyes.

Slowly we retraced our steps seeking solitude, off the crowded station, up the escalator, back through the barrier, back into the rain. The crowds were thinning. How long had we sparred? No matter how I tried I couldn’t “box” him or outwit him, the more we talked the more I listened. Finally in a desperate attempt to control the situation I asked.

“Look who are you and what do you want of me?” (I’d already ruled out “chatting me up” and “conman”.) His answer again floored me.

“I’m a knight in shining armour come to rescue you!” He delivered it with the perfect cheeky smile and, Jesus aside, I was totally smitten.

The problem came next day when I’d arranged to meet him again, (breaking my own rule to never give my number to guys.) We met up with two of his friends. The same brilliant gleam was mirrored in their eyes, the same electric coursed through me at their touch. I began to understand, by the end of the evening I’d finally met “the love of my life” and yes, it was Jesus.

(Regards to “swamiyesudas” for encouraging me to share my story)